


Calm Me Down

by helens78



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Community: kink_bingo, Established Relationship, Headspace, M/M, Romance, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 19:24:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't always easy to relax enough for sex.  Erik talks Charles into helping him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calm Me Down

//Trust me,// Charles says, thoughts fading in at the edges of Erik's mind. //Do you trust me?//

It's a loaded question. It's a horribly loaded question right now, when Erik's tied to the bed with strands of stainless steel ball chain, ones that he himself fused together around his wrists.

//Charles--// Erik glances away, trying to think of a diplomatic answer to that question.

Charles winces--Erik can actually feel the wince in his mind--and backs off a bit, sitting up straight.

"Sorry," Charles says. "I don't mean--I just meant now. I just meant, do you want this, do you want me to..."

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't." But Erik's squirming now, the chains twisting back and forth against his wrists. The chains are only there in the first place because Erik knows damn well that sometimes he has to _force_ himself to relax enough for sex, and Charles has been kind about that, but... _Damn it._

Charles reaches out for him, putting his hands on Erik's chest. "Calm down," he murmurs.

The fact that he doesn't calm down immediately only agitates Erik further. "Don't patronize me," he mutters. "Either calm me down or don't."

Charles jerks back as if he's been slapped, and it's only then that Erik realizes what he said, what it means--what Charles, dear sweet idealistic Charles, probably thinks of calming someone down by force.

Erik sighs and snaps the ball chain, looping it around the bedframe and sitting up. "You could, though," he says, as off-hand as he can make it. It isn't the first time he's considered asking; it's just the first time the words have actually made it past his lips, out in the open where Charles can't pretend he didn't overhear them. "I wouldn't object."

" _I_ object. If you don't want to--"

"That's the point, Charles. I do." Erik reaches out and puts his hand on Charles's shoulder; Charles leans in to the touch. "I do want to. It's not coercion if I'm asking you for it."

Charles manages a half-smile. "Nevertheless," he says, "there's something to be said for knowing my partner came to my bed willingly."

"I'm here. I'm willing." Erik catches Charles's hand in his and puts it between his legs, wrapping Charles's fingers around Erik's cock. Charles licks his lips and looks down at their hands, watches as Erik uses Charles's hand to stroke himself. He's still hard, and Charles's expression is getting hungrier and hungrier as their hands move. "I wouldn't mind a little help relaxing."

Charles looks back up at him, and Erik doesn't have to be a mind-reader to see the longing in Charles's eyes. It's what Charles always seems to want for him: less anger, more tranquility. Less singleminded determination and movement towards his goals, more willingness to stop and appreciate where they are today.

Erik takes his hand off Charles's and stretches out on his back, reaching his hands above his head again, calling the ball chain down from the bedframe. He wraps his wrists with it again and fastens the chain around the bedrails, nodding up at Charles.

And they start over, Charles straddling Erik's thighs, Charles's hands sweeping up from Erik's waist to his shoulders to his wrists, there and back again. Erik takes a deep breath and watches Charles, watches Charles as his eyes narrow and his focus shifts.

//Calm,// he thinks at Erik, and Erik takes a slow, even breath. The world tilts a little, shifts beneath him; it's like his mind is rolling on ocean waves. //Calm your mind...//

Something shifts again, and Erik gasps out loud as he's submerged. The world beyond vanishes; it's just the two of them, just their bed, no planning, no goals, no ulterior motives for being here. All that matters is Charles's hands on him, Charles's weight on his body. He can feel everything so much more deeply, all of a sudden--he can feel the flex and shift of Charles's thighs against his, he can feel the whorls on Charles's fingertips as they brush down over the sensitive skin on the insides of his arms. He can feel the air currents in the room, cool and gentle, over his chest, his cock, almost teasing him.

Charles reaches up and touches Erik's face, and Erik closes his eyes, parting his lips so Charles can touch him there, too, touch his mouth. He sucks two of Charles's fingers in, tasting Charles's fingertips, taking up the lingering flavor of his own skin. Charles moves his fingers in and out of Erik's mouth, easy, gentle, but it makes Erik shiver all the same. He's always liked this, giving pleasure with his lips and his tongue and the occasional sharp sting of his teeth, but it's rare having a chance to really savor it.

//Erik, my God, you're...// Charles's mind washes over Erik's, and words are no longer necessary. Erik can feel what Charles is feeling--the wonder, the awe, the pleasure of having Erik content to suck on Charles's fingers for as long as Charles will allow it.

Eventually, though, Charles draws his fingers back, rubbing Erik's lower lip with them before pulling them away altogether. Erik opens his eyes again and looks at Charles, and he tugs at the chains, raising an eyebrow at Charles.

"You don't need my permission," Charles says softly. "Take them off, if you like."

They drop off easily, slithering to the floor in coiled heaps. Erik sits up, wrapping his arms around Charles's waist, leaning in so he can catch Charles's mouth with a kiss. Charles doesn't object, doesn't try to withhold it; he opens his mouth as soon as Erik's on him, cups Erik's face in both hands. Erik kisses him, slow, easy. He's tasting Charles as much as he's kissing him, watching and listening and feeling to find out what Charles likes, what he wants from Erik right now.

The heat of Charles's palms against Erik's cheeks is wonderful; Erik pulls his mouth away from Charles's just to rub his cheek against Charles's hand, nuzzling in and letting Charles touch him. Charles groans out loud and strokes his fingers through Erik's hair, and Erik presses Charles down, pushes Charles onto his back and stretches out on top of him. He kisses Charles again, deeper now, with a little more intent, and Charles winds himself around Erik's body, arms around Erik's shoulders, legs up around Erik's waist. Erik slides one hand down to Charles's hip, thrusting down, not so much trying to move things to the next level as he's trying to get more sensation, more contact, more of everything.

This is more than relaxation; this is having his mind in a whole other place. Erik's not sure where Charles has taken him, but right now he wants to live here, stay here forever, never leave. He kisses Charles again, and again, and when Charles's arms tighten around him, Erik moans against Charles's mouth, thrusting a little harder.

//I want you,// Charles thinks at him. Erik draws his mouth away from Charles's again, twists in Charles's embrace so he can catch one of Charles's hands, draw Charles's wrist down and leave a soft kiss against the inside of it. He flicks his tongue over Charles's palm, then sucks two fingers into his mouth, licking them all over, getting them wet.

If the action itself wasn't enough of a hint, Erik's thoughts must give it away, because Charles's eyes go liquid and desperate, and he gasps out, "Really?" Erik keeps on licking, gets Charles's fingers wet, and when he's done, he slides up a little, moves forward so Charles can reach more easily. Charles slips his hand between them, then draws his fingers between Erik's legs, and when he starts pushing those two fingers into Erik, Erik gasps. There's a little discomfort--he so rarely bottoms--but Charles is either very experienced in preparing his lovers for this, or he's watching Erik's reactions from the inside, moving carefully and smoothly, making sure Erik's body is ready to take more before pressing deeper.

"Yes?" Charles breathes. Erik nods, sinking a little lower onto Charles's fingers. "God," Charles whispers, " _yes_ , yes, Erik--" He draws his fingers back and pushes them in again, and this time it's easier, just a little burn from the friction, more pleasure than pain.

Erik braces himself on Charles's chest, palms flat against his pecs, fingers splayed out and grazing his collarbones; he moves up, moves down, rides Charles's fingers and lets Charles stretch him open. He might not allow many people to see him this... this vulnerable, this _wanton_ , but right now it would be lying to both of them, himself as much as Charles, to hold any of this in. He _wants_ this; more than that, he wants to want it. He looks down, into Charles's eyes, wondering what Charles thinks of this, of him like this. Does he like it? Does he want it? Is it too much, he wonders, is he giving too much, asking too much--

Charles squirms out from under Erik's hands and surges up from the bed, throwing an arm around Erik's neck. It's awkward, too many limbs, not enough space, it seems like, and Charles's fingers slip free of Erik's ass. But when Charles kisses him, sloppy and open-mouthed and wet, Erik groans and gets an arm around Charles's back, holding on.

//I want this, I want you, it's not too much, it could never be too much. Want you so much, Erik, so much--//

Erik gasps against Charles's mouth. "Yes--yes, I want--lie down, lie down--"

He pushes Charles down to his back again, but this time he slides down the bed, pushing Charles's legs apart so he can lie between them. Charles props himself up on one elbow so he can see, and when Erik licks a hot, broad stripe up the length of his cock, Charles groans and reaches his free arm down so he can bury his fingers in Erik's hair, drawing him forward, urging him on.

Not that Erik needs the urging. He sucks Charles's cock into his mouth, moving lower and lower, taking more and more--right now it feels like the urge to give, to suck and lick and make Charles completely addled with want, isn't going to let up until he's got everything, all of it, and so he holds his breath and takes more, takes until he feels Charles's cock hit the back of his throat. Even that is far enough to leave Charles trembling; Erik draws back and moves down again, trying hard to relax as much as it'll take to have every last inch of Charles in his mouth.

//Help me,// Erik thinks. Charles clutches at his hair, but doesn't try to force him down any lower. //Charles, help me, need more, want more, can you do that, can you give me that?//

Charles's first answer is an explosive burst of air, one that might have been trying to be a word on its way out of his mouth; it takes a gasp and a few more tries before he manages to say something that Erik can make sense of.

"Bodily," Charles pants, "reflex, can't, _would_ , oh God, oh God, don't stop..."

//Charles,// Erik thinks, amused enough it must be coloring the tone of his thoughts. //You don't have to speak out loud.//

//You expect me to think clearly when you're doing that,// Charles fires back, and then out loud again, " _Erik!_ God, yes, _please_..."

//Push me,// Erik tells him. //Literally, Charles. Push.// He thinks out the image as clearly as he can: Charles pressing his head down, past the gag, past everything, until Erik's nose is buried in Charles's curls. Charles shudders, his whole body shaking with arousal. //I need this. I want this. I have to try. Help me.//

Charles nods--finally, finally, yes--and tightens his grip on Erik's hair. They're in sync, then, Erik's slow strokes down the length of Charles's shaft and Charles's motions, dragging Erik's head down, and as soon as Erik's taken another breath, Charles thrusts up and tugs down and it's perfect, one glorious moment of connection before Charles lets Erik up to breathe again.

//More,// Erik thinks, demands, and Charles nods again, and they're off, Erik's mouth on Charles's cock, all the way, every inch of him, _everything_ , so full and complete that Erik can barely stand it.

"I'm the one who--" Charles pants for breath, tugging Erik's head up, drawing him off Charles's cock. "I'm the one who can't stand it," Charles says. "I need to be inside you. Can I do that? Do you want me inside you?"

In answer, Erik shifts himself off Charles's lap and crawls up the bed, flattening himself on his stomach and spreading his legs. Charles groans and climbs onto him, legs in between Erik's. He slides an arm under Erik's chest, bends his head down and presses his lips to Erik's shoulder.

"Tell me," Charles whispers. "Please."

Erik shifts, rubs his ass against Charles's cock. "Fuck me," he growls.

"God, yes, _yes_ \--" Charles comes up for just a moment, long enough to spit into his hand; slick as he was from Erik's mouth, more certainly can't hurt. Erik's ready, though, beyond ready, so far past ready he's shaking, and when Charles starts to move into him, Erik throws his head back and groans. It's an ache, a deep, steady ache that takes up more and more of Erik's world, but beyond the ache there's Charles, there's the two of them, there's the way it feels to be held by Charles, needed this way, _loved_ \--

Charles stops, abruptly, head resting on Erik's shoulder, panting harshly. "Sorry," he grunts. "Projecting. Couldn't help--"

"Stop holding back," Erik whispers. He reaches back with one hand, finds Charles's hip. Charles reaches down immediately, taking Erik's hand and lacing their fingers together. "Come on. I'm with you." He squeezes Charles's hand. "I'm with you."

Charles gasps, brokenly, against Erik's shoudler, but then he's moving again. It's all pleasure, now, from the burn and the stretch and the ache to the feelings flooding him, all of Charles's desperation and need and love coming to the forefront. He can feel Charles's admiration, of all things; the way Charles respects what Erik's made of himself over the last decade, the way a part of Charles wants to stand at Erik's side and see Shaw pay for what he's done. He can feel Charles's loneliness, the parts of him that he'd kept closed until Erik, that he'd wanted to keep closed even with Erik, but that Erik broke into all the same.

He can feel Charles's temptation: how easy it would be to keep Erik like this, pliant and relaxed and eager, and Erik knows even through the haze of Charles's gift to him that sooner or later it would end.

//Not yet,// Erik thinks, and though his thoughts are awkward and clumsy, he clings to Charles, to the spot of tranquility Charles opened for him, to everything he's feeling right now.

There's a wave of affection, a crest of heartbreakingly beautiful pleasure, where everything Erik's always wanted, every joy he's ever known, flows over him. Charles squeezes him as tightly as he can, moving hard inside him, leaving hot, wet kisses up the side of Erik's neck.

//I love you,// Charles thinks. //And I'm close, I'm so close, can I, do you want me to--//

//Yes, yes, do it, want you to, need it, please, Charles, please--//

//--bring you over with me, do you want to come with me, together, with me, oh God, can't hold back much longer, Erik, so good, feels so good--//

//For pity's sake, Charles, _take_ me--//

Charles gasps, and then the rush of pleasure crashes into Erik, high and demanding, spiking through him. He can feel it in Charles's body first, the desperate urge to be in Erik, surrounded by Erik, pressed in as deeply as he can get, and then the gasping rush of pleasure as Charles comes. Erik's sure he can hold out through that, at first, but then Charles _twists_ something in his head, and he's overwhelmed, he's coming, he's shouting, he's coming apart and being held together all at once. He sobs with it, feeling the tears wash over his face, and he holds onto Charles's hand, desperate to hold onto this feeling as long as he can.

Like everything, it fades away, and sooner than he would have liked--but it ends with Charles still tangled up with him, still inside him, still a warm weight on his back and a comforting presence in his mind. For a moment, Erik has the fanciful idea that he can curl up inside his own thoughts, Charles wrapped around him, and fall asleep like that. But Charles groans softly and moves, and as his body draws away from Erik's, the altered sensations in Erik's mind leave him, too, until it's just the normal fog of lust and satisfaction, the quiet hum of being well-fucked and idly wanting more.

"Greedy," Charles murmurs. He kisses Erik's shoulder and then collapses beside him, keeping an arm around Erik's waist.

"You have that effect on me," Erik murmurs back, mostly to the mattress. Fortunately, Charles doesn't actually have to hear the words to know what Erik's saying.

He doesn't pry, though. He doesn't ask about the things Erik isn't saying out loud, the thoughts Erik's having. If it was so easy to draw that relaxation around Erik this time, how long could Charles make it last? How long until Erik forgot who he was, what he started out wanting? Would a single slip ruin everything, or does Erik want it enough that a nudge would be all he'd need to reshape himself forever?

Unsettling as those thoughts are, they're easier to contemplate than Charles's mind-whispered _I love you_ , there at the end when he was too lust-crazed to see straight. Easier to sort through than the way Erik told him _Stop holding back_ , and _I'm with you_ \--neither of which was an answer in so many words, but both of which were more than Erik thought he'd ever have to give.

He slides over on the bed, gets an arm around Charles's chest, throws a leg over both of Charles's. Charles squirms until he can get both arms around Erik, and then he holds on, saying nothing, letting his touch and his presence stand for themselves.

 _-end-_


End file.
